


Stop Coming.

by fritzy1999



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, I don't know how a cute wedding prompt managed to let me write this shit, I'm Going to Hell, I'm ashamed, Kate needs to not exist, M/M, Mentions of Laura and Hale fire, Nothing is explicit, Our boys need love, Posted on Tumblr first, but the feels are there, mentions of statutory rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fritzy1999/pseuds/fritzy1999
Summary: Derek and Stiles encounter Kate once more and like usual nothing goes as planned.





	Stop Coming.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Plus One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104285) by [Moosey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosey/pseuds/Moosey). 



“You just don’t know when to quite eh Bright eyes? Never could pace yourself even back then.”

Kate’s southern shrill rings off Stiles' ears and he walks silently to the two slumped figures in the field across from the building Kate tried to burn.

“I do applaud you though; for your ability to be the only one in your family alive. The first time was a disappointment and I was planning on consoling you in your grief before killing you by hand, but your bitch of a sister sure was quick to fly you both away. Do you miss us Der? I bet you miss my hugs.”

Stiles felt sick at the words spewing from the older woman’s mouth.

“I was a child Kate.” Derek growls-and Stiles feels a sense of pride and how Derek sounds accusing towards Kate and not himself- before a sharp gasp cut into the night.  
Stiles watches as Kate presses the heel of her boot into of the bullets wounds closer to Derek’s heart. Without thinking Stiles lunges and slams the middle age women to the hard dirt floor.

Not hesitating he cocks his arm back and can feel her blood splatter across his knuckles from the force breaking her nose. He didn’t cease his swings until a pain gasp from Derek catches his attention.

Stiles scrambles back, taking her gun with him and holds it steady to her forehead.

“Still taunting past victims Kate, the apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it, Kate?”

“Hello to you too brown eyes, glad you could join the party.” Kate sneers and watches Stiles, eyes glancing between the gun and him.

He smirks and readjusts his grip comfortably on the weapon.

“We both know your pathetic weapon isn’t something I need to unleash the monster inside you, Kate.’ Flicking the safety off Stiles doesn’t take his eyes off her.

‘Derek, can you get up?” Stiles asks steadily, listening to the laboured breaths of the man behind him.

“Not steadily no,” Derek replies evenly. Stiles glowers at Kate in disdain.

“Alright Big guy, I’m going to toss you her gun, the safety is on so whether or not my throw reaches you is up to you getting it,” Stiles states evenly and tosses the gun swiftly behind him.

Taking the chance Kate lunges at Stiles, but the brunette expecting her cheap shots turns back quickly and catches her by the torso and curls his left hand snugly into her lower jaw. Thumb and index finger pressing harshly onto her pressure points.

Stiles takes pleasure in watching Kate’s face scrounge up in annoyance and short of breath. A grunt from Derek confirms to Stiles that the injured werewolf got the weapon and smiles victoriously at Kate.

“I could do it, I could let the world see the beats you are. Mutilate, rip and contort your body into the beast you believe wolves to be. I would love it, watch as you gaze upon what you thought was such a beautiful complexion and stare in fear at the disgusting creature you tried to hide. I could do it and I stare you down the entire time as I do.” Stiles threatens and preens at the true fear in her eyes.

“Stiles!” Chris’ voice echoes from the burning building.

“I bet you and Gerard and a pleasure recounting your conquest with some Scotch because that's the type you are, taking pleasure in destroying an underages child's life. You rant and rave about how Werewolves are animals, but the only animal I have seen has been an Argent.”

Fury began to consume Stiles, his eyes flare and can feel his nails lengthen as they dig into Kate’s throat. She gasps and struggles with detaching herself from the man holding her throat in his hand. A deep- wet and lupine- snarl claws out of Stiles’ throat like he wishes his nails would to Kate’s throat.

He dips his head at an angle to bared teeth close to both her throat and ear.

“I may not kill you tonight Kate, but I am going to revel as I watch you and your father burn.”

He lets the women drop and takes a sickening amount of pleasure watching her struggle to breathe.

“STILES!” Chris hollers once more.

“Over here Chris!” Stiles answers back steadily. Turning around and focusing back on Derek.

They got back to their room thanks to Chris directing them through the shadows and into his car. They left the sounds of sirens behind.

Derek survived the bullet wounds but he closed himself off from Stiles and refused to resurface from the mindscape he planted himself in.

Once inside their motel room, Stiles heads to take a scorching hot shower. Hot anger surges through his veins and pouts of rage that has been bottled up finally release themselves. With an animalistic snarl, Stiles wrecks the bathroom; bottles and shower essentials are swiped viciously off the countertops and shelves. Many exploding against the wall or on the floor. By chance, Stiles spots himself in the mirror.

He doesn’t think as his fist swings before his brain can adjust to the momentum. The glass shatters on impact and the bathrooms acoustics allows it to scream off the walls. 

Derek rushes to the bathroom.

“Stiles!” Derek jigs the door handle, banging on the wooden frame harshly.

Stiles’ world begins to slow as he falls to his knees at the side of the tub.

“STILES!!”

Derek hollers on the other side of the door and swiftly breaks the handle.  
Stiles cards his bleeding and glass filled hands through his hair, eyes unfocused and wet.

“Stiles…”

Derek’s voice is a whisper as he takes in the chaos Stiles had made in the bathroom.  
Bitter tears spill over as he looks up to the werewolf in front of him, the man looked far more put together outwardly then Stiles ever will, but his eyes were filled with so much pain.

Stiles lets a broken laugh escape his aching throat, completely collapsing within himself.

“When do the monster stop coming back?” His voice was so tiny, so desperate, pleading for Derek to answer the question.

The older man stares helplessly for a moment before he sets himself in resolve. Slowly-like a man approaching a rabid creature- Derek crouches and gathers Stiles into his arms. Allowing both of them to be consumed in grief, allow them to finally heal.


End file.
